


A Sunset

by BuddyBuddyPalBuddy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Character Death, First Kiss, M/M, Stabbing, Whump, Wings, based off of amazing art, despite this being sad as hell I was listening to Nicki Minaj while writing this, gabriel sorta possesses Aziraphale, i think, ive gotten 100 death threats on tumblr for this, post almost-apocalypse, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyBuddyPalBuddy/pseuds/BuddyBuddyPalBuddy
Summary: After the aversion of the apocalypse and their brushes with death, Aziraphale is acting a little different...





	A Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of wonderful art by @speremint, check them out on tumblr (link to it here- https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/185886122275/%F0%9D%92%BE%F0%9D%93%8C%F0%9D%91%9C%F0%9D%93%83%F0%9D%93%89%F0%9D%92%BD%F0%9D%91%92%F0%9D%93%88%F0%9D%92%BE%F0%9D%93%89%F0%9D%92%B6%F0%9D%93%89%F0%9D%91%92%F0%9D%92%B7%F0%9D%92%BE%F0%9D%93%89%F0%9D%92%B8%F0%9D%92%BD%F0%9D%93%85%F0%9D%93%83%F0%9D%91%94-what-if-gabriel-casually
> 
> Yes it’s a very long link but- it’s worth a click. Enjoy!

After meeting up back at St. James park, they went to the Ritz, as they always did. Toasted with champagne to a new world, neither of them eating much. Crowley didn’t ask Azirphale what was wrong, it felt like too much right now. Crowley doubted he would ever be able to talk about what the angels wanted to do to him. Not without crying.

While they left the restaurant, Azirphale grabbed his hand. Crowley practically jumped out of his skin, looking frantically at Aziraphale.

“What are you-“

“I wanted to. Crowley,” Aziraphale started, “Why don’t we go flying together? Like old times?”

Crowley’s brows furrowed.

“We’ve... never gone flying before, angel. Well, not together.”

Aziraphale shrugged, squeezing his hand.

“It’s been a while since I’ve flown, though. I think it would be lovely, just the two of us. Look,” he gestured upwards with his free hand, “it’s such a... wonderful evening.”

Crowley looked up. The clouds dotting the sky were few and far between, the purple-orange sky glimmering with sunset and promise, absolutely beautiful. Nothing like how claustrophobic and dark hell was. Crowley smiled at Aziraphale, who was already opening his wings. The humans saw nothing, because they didn’t want them to.

With a strong flap of his wings, Aziraphale was in the air, Crowley rushing to keep up with him. The night air was cool against his face and his wings as he followed Aziraphale, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. Aziraphale was hovering in the air with his wings out around him, arms open and inviting and so, so familiar. Crowley flew at him with all his might, opening his arms to capture his angel.

“Aziraphale!” He cried, feeling like a soda shaken to explosion, bubbly and sugary as Azirphale wrapped his arm around him, circling him with his wings. Crowley could smell champagne on his breath light and wonderful as the clouds below them. Against the dark purple of night, he could see Aziraphale’s hair and the halo above it, a perfect crown atop his head, scrawled with strange, unfamiliar runes.

“I almost feel bad,” Aziraphale said, voice deep and low, almost a growl. Both of his arms were tight around Crowley, making him pull in his wings. He trusted Aziraphale not to let him fall. Aziraphale smiled at him, all teeth and no feeling. Crowley’s brows furrowed, the smile sliding off his face. Since when did he have purple eyes? No, his eyes were blue.

But Aziraphale was staring emptily down at him with the most vibrant pair of violet eyes he had ever seen. Except he had seen them, once before...

“Angel?”

Aziraphale’s arm was tightly squeezing him, hooked right under his wing, and the other one was pulling back. Crowley felt his breath catch in his lungs, frantically looking back, just as Aziraphale plunged the white, glowing knife right into his spine. 

Crowley cried out, felt himself go limp. He desperately tried to grab onto Aziraphale, but Aziraphale knocked him off with a swift, crunching kick to the chest. Desperately, Crowley tried to open his wings, but could do nothing, the wind around him rushing louder than the blood in his ears.

He let his eyes slip shut, truly knowing what it was like to fall.

—

“Crowley. Crowley!”

He opened his eyes, staring right at Aziraphale. He tried to kick against the dirt, trying to get away, but he couldn’t move his legs, only stare up into Aziraphales eyes. Clear, ocean blue, bloodshot and teary.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley slurred, “I, it’s you?”

“Yes, dear boy,” Aziraphale whispered, “It’s me, I’m so, so sorry, after the switch Heaven got me and Gabriel, he- oh my god, I’m so, so sorry.”

Crowley was vaguely aware of his hands cupping his head like something precious, gently wiping something off his face. His shirt was soaked. He wished he didn’t know it was his blood. Aziraphale was muttering something about mercy.

“I don’t want to die,” Crowley plead, every part of his body feeling painful and sore. “I still have something to tell you.”

“Shh, Crowley, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

“No it isn’t, Angel.” He coughed, a little too wet, trying to lean up, get his muscles to agree with him. If he was going to die, go to hell and be obliterated, then he couldn’t go without Aziraphale knowing. He tried, desperately, to sit up, move his arms to cup Aziraphale’s face, wipe away all those tears, but he couldn’t. The knife still lodged in his back forbade it. Words would have to do.

“Angel,” he spat blood out with every word. It trickled down his cheeks and chin, “I love you. Kiss me. Please.”

“Crowley-“

“I mean it. I do. I love you.” 

Everything around him was getting darker, except for Aziraphale. Aziraphale was ever bright and wonderful, even crying, even with hands stained with his blood. Aziraphale leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Crowley’s lips, and Crowley let his eyes slip shut, a smile on his face.

Aziraphale pulled away, and knew they wouldn’t open again.


End file.
